Ode to Spring (From a Safe Distance)

DESPITE THE GUT-DEEP fear in the world today, I couldn’t help but sit in awe of the cherry tree in my front yard. Spring seemed more beautiful this year, and the fallen petals covering our lawn—like snow from the winter we never had—lifted me to a brief, dreamlike reverie.

As it turned out, I was sharing that moment with the cats, who had joined me on the porch. Their unusual attentiveness prompted me to explain why I was at home on a weekday, why they now get their breakfast at 7 a.m. instead of 6 (despite their desperate scratching on the other side of a newly closed door), and why life had otherwise changed in our house.

I told them that a virus was taking hold of our world and that our nation, in crisis but true to its exceptional nature, was led by a president who is exceptionally unqualified for this moment. One of the cats licked his hindquarters in unspoken agreement, and neither contradicted me when I added how shameless were Republican leaders who wanted corporate tax breaks in a rescue package.

When one of them (a cat, not a Republican leader) tried to jump into my lap, I demurred, if demur is the correct word when describing a quick swipe of the hand. I apologized, and started to explain social distancing, but you know how it is when you talk to cats. They maintain eye contact, seeming to treat the matter seriously, but their minds are elsewhere. Perhaps contemplating the sweet sound of a can opener at 6 a.m.

Of course, there is a fundamental problem in communicating with cats and, in fairness to them, there is a reason: They are passionless, selfish animals whom I generally find unpleasant. Which is why we only have two.

I explained to my porch companions that the virus made inroads into the U.S. population from senior citizens returning from vacations abroad. Elderly retirees who’d been waiting a lifetime to travel overseas are now wishing they had boarded their cats for the week and just booked another trip to Orlando. (Despite CDC warnings, who would turn down a hug from Snow White!? On the other hand, keeping your distance from a guy in a Goofy costume is just common sense.)

I also explained that scientists have yet to develop a cure for the pathogen, but it’s only a matter of time before some Christian leaders reveal the cause as God’s vengeful wrath against [choose one]:

• gender-neutral bathrooms
• burdensome regulation
• something about the Second Amendment. (It’s still not clear whether a good guy with a gun needs a flu shot.)

THE ONLY POSITIVE has been that Ted Cruz self-quarantined, a status even my cats feel he ended too soon. (If he saw his shadow when he came out, he should have gone back in.) Space limitations won’t permit listing others who should remain in isolation, but it would include hundreds of politicians, most AM radio hosts, and virtually every televangelist broadcasting today. Except for one. For comic relief in this troubled time, please, oh please let disgraced TV preacher Jim Bakker stay on the air. He interspersed his program with testimonials for his Silver Solutions Gel, which he swears protects against viral strains and which prompted a cease-and-desist order against him. But to my mind he’s a walking, talking testimonial to the miracle of renewal. How this unrepentant con artist still has an audience is inspiration to us all.

Right, cats? ... cats?

(I need a dog.)